


Fingers to the Bone

by Wiggle



Series: Claims of Intimacy [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Bottom Bucky Barnes, M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Omega Tony Stark, Porn With Plot, Prostate Massage, Winteriron Month 2020, omega slick used as lubricant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiggle/pseuds/Wiggle
Summary: Alpha Bucky is ass over tea kettle for Omega Tony Stark.It's a good thing he likes going ass up too.This is just porn with a moderate amount of feelings.More to... come.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Claims of Intimacy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668274
Comments: 8
Kudos: 163
Collections: MCU Kink Bingo Round 4, Star Spangled Bingo 2020, Tony Stark Bingo 2020, WinterIron Month 2021





	Fingers to the Bone

**Author's Note:**

> Tony Stark Bingo A3 **Free Square** 3086 **CARD # 3086**  
>  Marvel Kink Bingo **prostate massage** square I4  
> StarSpangled Bingo **laughing during sex** square B4  
> Also for WinterIron Month NSFW week **Fingering** March 18
> 
> this was originally going to be titled: Anymore Fingering and We'd have to Call this a Palm Tree but there were no palm tree squares on my bingo cards ;)

Tony works his own slick onto his fingers. He’s got one hand low behind him, dragging up his wet thighs and the other dangling artfully behind his neck, elbow above his head. The mattress is almost silent under him as he shifts on his knees, the sheets cool against his toes when he digs them into the end of the bed. All he can see in the hazy half-light leaking through the opaqued windows are the blankets and pillows strewn between him and the head of bed. 

Behind him, Bucky is watching. 

The thought sends a fresh flush of arousal sweeping over him, shivery goosebumps chase each other across Tony’s skin. Spreading his legs a little more, canting his hips back so that Bucky can see everything he’s doing, he swipes his fingers up towards his ass, coating each one carefully. He’s leaking more than enough, wet and open and wanting, but he has other plans.

The hair on the back of his neck prickles into standing as Bucky arrives behind him. The alpha heat pouring off him sends a shudder through Tony. 

A second passes and then the mattress caves as Bucky comes to kneel next to him. He’s a hard, naked wall of muscle and temptation. He’s also fucking heavy, displacing the mattress enough that Tony topples. Bucky’s hands steady him, but all his careful posing is lost.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Tony says, recovering. He smirks and shifts his slick hand up between them, thumb and pinky pulled together. Watching Bucky’s face, he casually spreads his fingers. They’re wet and shiny in the low light. Obscene. The nearly transparent liquid clings as he spreads his finger open a little wider, slipping lazily towards his knuckles. Bucky’s pupils blow wide. He licks his lower lip like he might be thinking of sucking the slick right back off Tony’s fingers.

“Your turn,” Tony says, voice thick and a little dark. He nudges Bucky’s shoulder, guiding him so he twists to lie lengthwise down the mattress. Bucky flings himself down into the sheets instead, surprising a laugh out of Tony. He starfishes his arms, digging his head back into plush pillows, love for soft things on full display. When Bucky swings his arms back in, he drags a mess of blankets and pillows over his chest and face and just breathes. 

He’s happy. 

Tony’s heart constricts with a wrench in his chest. He pushes the feeling aside. There’s no room for it, not when Bucky’s draped in Tony’s sheets, his abs and those goddamn thighs on display. He’s fucking beautiful. There’s a low throb in his abdomen, he can’t get any more ready, but his body gives a valiant attempt, fresh slick leaking down his thighs.

“C’mon Stark, I cooled my heels through your whole show, you gonna keep me waiting?” Bucky says from beneath his pillow barricade. 

As with most things—enemies, plans, Tony’s resolve—the blankets have failed to survive first contact with Bucky. He wades through the mess they’ve become, pulled from their moorings, reordered around Bucky, and tries not to read too much into his own predicament. The mattress gives under Tony’s weight and Bucky’s body pulls taut at his approach, shoulders and heels pushing into the mattress, hips lifting slightly.

Tony is going to fuck this up. Bucky’s easy and he’s clever and for whatever-the-fuck reason, he likes Tony. And Tony is going to wreck this and probably wreck Bucky while he’s at it—

Uncovering his face from the soft-things cocoon, Bucky smirks at Tony, quirking an eyebrow up at the same time. He spreads himself into a near mirror of Tony’s earlier position. Tucking his metal arm up out of the way behind his head so he’s just acres of flesh and temptation and dark promise. Smirk growing, he pulls one of his legs up and tilts it to the side and out of the way, exposing himself. Tony can’t look away. 

Fuck, he wants to be inside Bucky, tasting that smirk while his body gives way.

Settling himself between Bucky’s spread legs, Tony traces the sticky edge of his little finger down the inside of his elevated leg. Bucky shivers at the light caress, and then again as Tony blows cool and steady down the wet trace he left behind. When he reaches the end, he laves his tongue against Bucky’s cock from the base to the head. An airy, punched-out sound comes from above Tony's head. He leans back to watch Bucky breathe open mouthed, before holding his slick hand up in request.

“Yes,” Bucky says, voice hitching eagerly.

 _Good_. Tony thinks with pride, cock bouncing in needy anticipation. He’s hot all over, muscles jumping with energy he can’t spend yet. 

Curling his hand to keep from losing any of the dampness clinging to his fingers, he brushes the dry back of his hand down Bucky’s thigh. Bucky’s lower lip is trapped between his teeth, his breathing coming out in short pants around it. When Tony’s hand is almost at its destination, he nudges Bucky’s thigh further out of the way. The leg Bucky has raised trembles, almost too subtle for Tony to notice. Letting his facial hair scrape against Bucky’s thigh, Tony presses soothing wet kisses into his flesh. His trembling increases, but he lets out a humming affirmative sound from deep in his chest and shifts to make room. 

Tony rests his fingers against Bucky’s rim, waiting for—

Bucky jerks once, a half-controlled thing, before he goes almost boneless against the bed.

—that. It’s not unusual for Bucky, and Tony doesn’t know the history behind it, if there even is one. He’s never asked, not his business, other than to make sure Bucky wasn’t crazily trying to put himself through something he didn’t like.

“I like it jus’ fine,” Bucky had mumbled the first time, hands still above his head where they’d snapped some of the slatting free from the headboard. “Should’ve been born with a self-slicking one, save me a lot of hassle.”

Tony smooths his fingers over Bucky’s opening, petting over the tight furl of his flesh. There’s no give yet, despite how wet Tony’s fingers are. Bucky’s pushing against them anyway, tensing all over like that will help, hungry for it even though his body is always slow to relax. 

“Shh,” Tony breathes over Bucky’s cock. He can feel Bucky clench tighter under his questing fingers as his back arches, cock bobbing towards Tony’s mouth. Fuck, that’s hot. Tony’s own cock bobs in eager response. 

“Shh,” Tony says again, breathing out more air than he needs to soothe along Bucky’s cock. He twists his wrist so it’s his thumb exerting a light but insistent pressure. 

A fresh wave of slick runs down Tony’s thighs as his body urges him to get on with things. There’s going to be no shortage of extra for him to work into Bucky. Thinking about it has hips canting up uselessly, his own body aching to be filled.

Shifting from his thumb back to his fingers, Tony uses the extra inches they give him to lean forward enough to reach Bucky’s mouth. When he arrives, Bucky presses up from the mattress, bringing their chests together. Fuck, he is so fucking warm, and _eager_ , and Tony is going to come desperately humping into the hot line of his thigh.

“Relax,” Tony says, shifting so he can ease his free hand around the back of Bucky’s head, keeping him in place, so he can let the tension drain out of his muscles.

Eyelids slipping low, Bucky looks half lost and soft. He blinks up at Tony a few times before releasing his bottom lip from his mouth. The last few inches between them disappear so that Tony can pull that lip into his own mouth. Bucky makes an achy noise of want, arching up again before easing further into the mattress. 

Without Bucky trying to force himself onto Tony’s fingers, he has more freedom. He lets his them wander a little, pressing into Bucky’s perineum in long, soothing strokes.

Brushing his cheek against Bucky’s, Tony rasps the sharp line of his beard along Bucky’s jaw; the five o’clock shadow that Bucky sports is softer than Tony’s facial hair. He brings their lips together again, lets Bucky hum desire into his mouth before moving on to scrape his beard down Bucky’s neck and collarbone. Sitting back, Tony enjoys the sight even though the pink won’t last for long. 

The metal hand has emerged from behind Bucky’s head, no longer hidden away as he tries to relax into a state where his body will accept Tony’s intrusion. 

“Lemme see the arm,” he says. Bucky tenses up under him and Tony worries he’s just undone all his work. It bothers Bucky, the arm, but they were turning a page on that. At least, he’d thought they were. 

After a moment's hesitation, Bucky moves. “You’re a menace,” he says, but his tone is all over warm, none of the usual shadows lurking in his features.

Tony loses control of his hips, pressing into the warm length of Bucky’s raised leg. Fuck, Tony gets turning into a mess of humanity when Bucky is looking blissed out and desperate, he gets almost blowing early when Bucky has him caged tight with his bulk and split wide over his cock. He is at a complete loss as to why watching Bucky—warm and soft and offering up the hand that he hates—almost drives him over the edge. Tony’s fights a helpless surge of arousal. That look on Bucky’s face and the heat of his thigh threaten to pull Tony over the edge.

Pulling back from the distracting heat of Bucky’s body to prevent anything… premature, Tony presses his lips against the hard plane of Bucky’s abdomen, right below where he’s rested the arm. He sucks a slow wet line towards it, before carefully coaxing the index finger into his mouth. 

Bucky’s mouth drops open as he watches. He half scrambles to get his other arm under him so he can angle himself for a better view. The tinny taste of the metal isn’t pleasant, but it’s hardly new to Tony. It’s a small, small price to pay for the way Bucky’s face goes from open and easy to _vulnerable_ , eyes wide and round. Sitting back on his heels, Tony lifts the hand with him and pulls another finger between his lips. Bucky collapses, eyes still huge, focused on his fingers disappearing into Tony’s mouth. 

“You like that,” Tony says, pulling free to drag his lips across the metal as he speaks. The mechanical fingers twitch against his face, then Bucky’s dragging his index finger across Tony’s lower lip.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says, almost absently, knee-jerk sass. 

“Why not?” Tony practically purrs, “Are you gonna do it for me?”

Shifting from stroking to pressing, Bucky pushes his finger back into Tony’s mouth. Tony lets it happen, slipping his tongue over the intrusion. With infinite delicacy, Bucky hooks the first knuckle down and gently reels Tony in. 

Slamming his eyes shut, Tony nearly whines at the sudden spike of urgency. Fresh tension screws through him, his cock strains, desperate for contact, Bucky is going to absolutely destroy him. 

Surrendering the hand he’s had around Bucky’s wrist, Tony manages to catch himself before he faceplants in Bucky’s chest. Glad for the distraction, Tony scrabbles to get control over himself again.

“Need a little sweet talk to get you going, sweetheart?” Bucky asks, voice gone gravelly and low. He rests his lips against Tony’s, where he’s dragged him in, and pants. “You wanna hear how much I want your cock in me? How I’m so strung tight and aching right now that I don’t want to wait?”

Bucky sets his heels and pushes his hips up at Tony. Tony’s fingers slip back to catch at Bucky’s rim. This time, when they caress over Bucky, he’s able to work the tip of one in. 

“Jesus,” Tony says, shivery delight drilling into him. 

With a slow, careful stroke, he begins the agonizing tease of filling Bucky until he’s filthy and dripping with Tony’s own slick. Bucky pants through it, his train of thought apparently lost. Slipping his fingers over Bucky, Tony teases up his perineum, and gently, gently behind his balls. Any of the slippery liquid that gets left behind he feeds into Bucky. 

“I’m gonna, though.” Bucky finally continues, heaving in a breath, this time against Tony’s jaw where his mouth has slipped in a scalding jagged line. “I’m gonna wait like a good boy for you, while you finesse my reluctant asshole. I want you inside me.” 

Bucky’s voice changes without warning, he’s shifted so that his shuddering breaths brush over Tony’s ear. Dark and a little strangled, he repeats himself, “I want you _inside me_.”

Tony clamps down on every part of his body. His knuckles crack as both the hand that’s supporting him and the hand that was slowly working Bucky open clench into fists. Fresh slick seeps down his thighs.

“That’s too bad,” Tony says, dragging the hopelessly aroused edges of himself under control. Removing his hand from the hot stretch of skin between Bucky’s legs and dipping it between his own, he Scoops his fingers through the sticky mess of his own slick while Bucky watches. “Because I’m not ready to give that to you.” 

As he pulls his fingers free, covered and slippery again, Bucky’s body bows up from the bed in a tight, frustrated curve. He makes a strangled, wanting sound. 

“The hell you’re not,” he says, collapsing back onto the mattress, dragging air into his lungs, eyes fixed on Tony’s fingers.

Brushing his newly wet thumb back down Bucky’s perineum, Tony slips the tip of his finger inside him and waits. Applying just enough pressure that his finger is insistent, he shrugs. “I think I’ll work you open slow, stuff you full until you’re leaking my slick, no reason to rush—”

“The hell there isn’t.” Bucky says, voice thready, clenching around Tony’s finger.

“—Nice, and gentle and slow.” Tony arches his finger the tiniest bit to pull tenderly at Bucky’s rim. 

“Shit.” Comes from Bucky on a sharp exhale. 

“Catch every bit of slick that slides out of me and fill you until you’re dripping. Make you a sloppy mess before I even work my first finger in.”

His finger slips in deeper at that, right up to his second knuckle. Bucky’s body ripples around him even as he arches at the intrusion.

“Fuck, you want it bad.” Tony can’t help saying. With a frustrated groan, Bucky shoves the back of his head deeper into the pillows and tries to force himself down on Tony’s finger. Pulling back so that Bucky doesn’t hurt himself, Tony shifts to barely breaching him, back to just the tip, waiting. Luckily, caught up in his own desperation, Bucky doesn’t seem to have noticed the effect the sight of him—wanton, needy, and trying to work himself down Tony’s finger—has had on Tony. Neglected cock throbbing, he holds as still as he can until Bucky relaxes.

“This is gonna be rough,” Tony says, as Bucky’s eyes travel down the arm Tony has buried between his thighs. Rotating his hand, Tony rubs his finger in a slow swirl back to where they’d been before Bucky tried to rush things along. “Because we’re going to spend a good long time with just my fingers in you. First one—” 

Tony nudges in just a little deeper, they’re probably almost at the tipping point where Bucky’s body accepts that he wants this enough to give way.

“Then two.” Tony pulls his finger out, listening to Bucky hiss as he does. He slips more slick into Bucky’s slackening hole. There’s enough slopped on him he looks like an omega, streaks of it trickling down the slope of his asscheeks to drip into the sheets. Chasing it down, Tony scoops it into a pool on his fingertips and shoves it back into Bucky’s body.

He plays along Bucky’s rim again, two fingers now, a light rolling motion like he’s going to try and pull him open. 

“Even though your ass will still be tight as a vice, we’ll fill you up with three,” Tony says, slipping his first finger back in. It’s an easy slide, Bucky so desperate with so much of Tony’s slick worked into him. He’s about to pull out again until he notices a light clenching, like Bucky’s trying to pull him in farther with nothing but his internal walls. Adding just the lightest bit more pressure, Tony finds his finger gliding deeper until his knuckles are kissing Bucky’s damp flesh. 

Bucky sighs in satisfaction, cock twitching as he clenches around Tony’s finger. They’re not even halfway through, his body will fight the stretch of fingers two and three, but he looks pleased and easy. Tony leans over to kiss him, because he can, because Bucky will return it, because he can have this now. Both of Bucky’s hands come up to cup around his head, holding him in place. Even with the cameo of his arm earlier, Tony is still surprised. The arm is never involved when they have sex.

Tony groans into the kiss, as eager as Bucky is. Feeling those metal fingers hold him in place, feeling them _scritch along his scalp_ , Tony doesn’t know how he and Bucky got here, but he isn’t going to do a goddamn thing to jeopardize it.

Pulling his lips free, Tony begins another agonizing tease of a withdrawal with his finger.

“Keep that hand on me and I’ll consider speeding things along.” He cants his head into Bucky’s metal hand to make himself clear. He’s never had any problems with Bucky’s arm. Somebody save him, Tony loves that thing almost as much as the man it’s attached to. It’s part of Bucky. If he’s finally willing to use it during sex—even in a non-explicitly sexy way—Tony is ecstatic, Tony is proud, Tony is in fucking danger, that’s what Tony is. 

Tony keeps his finger moving, pulling out so slowly that he has to speed up occasionally just to be sure he’s moving at all. There’s a light suction effect going on, little zephyrs of pleasure zing through him at the memory of how that feels. Bucky’s breathing out in little pants, the muscles in his thighs jumping with effort. Tony can’t tell if he’s trying to stay relaxed or trying to trap Tony’s finger in place.

“Once we’ve got all three worked in, I’m going to just hold them there.” Tony slips his finger all the way back in. “Grind away at your prostate, stop—” 

Tony twists his wrist sharply and stops, stops moving, stops speaking, dragging out the tease of it.

“—Wait until you’re chasing after them,” he starts again, easing his fingers over Bucky’s prostate. The huffy, breathy ‘ah’ sounds he makes, threading down Tony’s cock. “Maybe we’ll see if you can come without me touching your cock.”

He leans down to drag his lips over Bucky’s abs, close enough that Bucky’s cock twitches against his cheek while his ass clenches down around Tony’s finger. “Then, when you’re a sloppy mess, painted in your own cum—” He leaves wet kisses across Bucky’s lower abdomen, right where he’ll spill. “—with my slick leaking out of you,—” he pulls his finger free and swirls it around Bucky’s hole demonstrating the wet mess he already is. “—I’m going to sit you on my cock, just like you like.” Tony slides his finger home again. Bucky is breathing shuddery little gasps, and he’s broken out into a light sheen of perspiration.

Tony feels an answering cascade of damp heat and prickling skin wash down his spine. 

He reaches up to tilt Bucky’s head towards the wall so he can see what Tony’s about to mention. Misunderstanding, Bucky mouths at his fingers. Very, very careful to keep his breathing steady, Tony tries to smother the want that is a wild thing seizing in his chest. 

Breathing out long and slow, Tony reclaims his fingers and caresses Bucky’s cheek before encouraging him to tilt his head.

“We’ll sit right there.” Tony tilts his head at the edge of the bed. “Spread you wide over my lap—” Bucky starts working himself on Tony’s finger, “—back to chest, and you can watch yourself come, squirming on my cock.” 

Tony watches as Bucky takes in the mirror, his angle isn’t the best, but the way Bucky’s spine stiffens and his hips jerk is telling.

“Jesus, yes.”

Bucky _says_ the right thing, but then he does the opposite of what Tony wants. Taking his hands back, he presses them into the mattress behind his head. “If you think I’m going to wait around for you—” 

Bucky uses his hands on the mattress for a distracting, sinuous sort of leverage. He’s muscle packed over muscle, but it’s impossible to forget how lithe he is. 

This time, however, Tony has all the advantage. “How does that sentence end, exactly?” he asks with not a little laughter lurking in his voice. He can’t help it, Bucky’s body chases after him as he pulls his finger free.

The world tilts on its axis, Bucky’s hands coming up to help flip Tony neatly beneath him. Why is he always wrong about who holds the upper hand between them? He needs to learn that it’s always Bucky. 

“Was I not sweet enough for you?” Bucky asks once he’s kneeling over Tony. “Or, it’s this, isn’t it? This is what you want?”

He drags his metal hand down Tony’s chest and torso, leaving chilled lines in its wake, while Tony tries to recover from being manhandled. He’s having a little trouble not driving his hips up to get some friction. Bucky’s hand traces down even lower and Tony’s pulse rate rockets—

“Oh,” he says, unable to keep it behind his teeth. Bucky looks at him, but his fingers skip right past Tony’s cock and wrap around his own. Desire is an electric thing that scalds its way over Tony, raging across his skin and needling its way from his scalp to his extremities. All he can see is the way Bucky’s fingers wrap tight around his cock, how thick it makes him look when the bulk of the metal should do the opposite, how his fingers and his damp cockhead both reflect the light. All he can hear is the infinitesimal sound of metal on metal when Bucky’s thumb folds over his fingers.

He leans down to kiss Tony, his metal fingers coming up to scrape through Tony’s hair. The sound Tony makes is almost anguished, clenching painfully around nothing, _fuck, please_. Tony bends himself away from the bed, hips raised at an angle there’s no way he can maintain, desperately chasing after whatever Bucky will give him. 

Bucky rocks with him, never in any danger of letting Tony touch him. “Wow, you really do like this.”

“It’s not weird,” Tony rushes to say. The defcon of his sexual desperation dropping in exact counterpoint to his Oh Shit meter going off the charts. 

“It’s just,” Tony says before he can interpret the look on Bucky’s face, “It’s you. Not, _you_ , you, but a part of you. I’m really—”

This, at least, has to be safe to say, right? There’s no way Tony’s interest isn’t obvious by now.

“—Into you. _You_ , you.” 

“Well, you coulda been,” Bucky mumbles.

Tony has just enough time to panic over that before Bucky is capturing his arms. Sucking his lower lip into his mouth, Bucky pulls Tony’s hands up to stare at them. Closing his eyes, Tony tries to calculate the odds of this ending well for him, he doesn’t understand enough of the variables to—

A warm press of lips skims the palm of first one hand, then the other. Tony’s eyes spring open to watch as Bucky takes both into his flesh hand to push them over Tony’s head, the motion bringing him low over Tony’s body. He can feel each of Bucky’s exhalations when he says, “For a genius, you’re an idiot, Tony. Suck.”

His eyes are alight and teasing, easygoing Sergeant Barnes written all over him. His voice couldn’t sound more fond. Still, Bucky’s voice saying something like ‘suck’ is just about the hottest thing Tony can imagine. Flying past ‘interested and ready to go,’ Tony's cock wrenches back to ‘oh fuck, yes please,’ leaving him gasping. Bucky’s metal fingers rest against his lower lip until Tony does as he’s told. 

“That’s pretty,” he says, fingers pressing down on Tony’s tongue. Tony tries to keep his hips still, holding them back from seeking Bucky’s warmth. “Wouldn’t have thought anything good could come from this, but look at you.”

Bucky does just that for a moment, eyes raking across Tony’s face. Tony knows his cheeks have hollowed out with the way he’s sucking Bucky’s fingers, and his eyes must give away just how turned on he is. “Ain’t like I could look at this and mistake you for wanting someone else.”

Tony’s eyes slip closed, his world narrows down to the metal taste on his tongue and Bucky’s voice. He’s drowning in the alpha heat Bucky’s leaking everywhere. 

“How ‘bout I let you suck on these next time,” he says with a small tug, presumably indicating he wants to remove his fingers without taking Tony’s teeth with them. “Maybe see if we can come up with something else you’d like to do with ‘em. First though, you made me a promise.” 

Bucky leans back from where he’s poised over Tony and drags his fingers, still wet from Tony’s mouth, through the smears of slick he finds pressed between Tony’s thighs. Licking it off his own fingers, eyebrow quirked and grin back in place, he says, “Fuck me, like you promised.” 

“Like this?” Tony sits up, and Bucky shifts backwards enough that Tony has room, but also so that his cock is dead-eye level with Tony’s mouth. 

“Nah,” Bucky says, smile still in place. “Can’t have you getting distracted again.”

Twisting away from Tony’s thighs, he rotates on his knees like a goddamn ballerina before falling forward onto his hands.

Tony’s heart is going to give out. He can’t take this. 

Kneeling up to get an eyeful of Bucky’s ass does wonders for his recovery. 

Bucky is still wet and glistening, but Tony’s fingers got swiped dry during their interlude into uncomfortable feelings. Slicking them up again, Tony returns to his task. “Next time we’ll do the fingers thing, but after that I’m going to lick you open.” 

Tony sees the way Bucky stops breathing. Conveniently, looking right at his ass, he’s also got a front row view for the way it tightens, cheeks tensing up, hole clenching down around nothing. When Bucky finally begins breathing again, it shudders through his whole body, his spine arching up before he lays his chest flat against the mattress, ass still canted high, thighs slipping even wider. 

“Yes,” he says, airy and harsh, spine sagging in a sweet curve, like his body is begging to be filled. A wave of heat rolls over Tony, his blood pounds thick in his veins, suffusing his face and neck and chest before carrying on downwards. A shock of goosebumps tangles down his body in its wake. Fuck, he wants Bucky wrapped around him, the alpha heat of him concentrated and snug around Tony’s cock.

Slipping his finger back into Bucky is easy. He presses a second finger against his rim, just teasing at the edge. Then he sets his mouth, hot and wet, as close to Bucky’s hole as he can without compromising the slick he’s spread around. Bucky _heaves_ backwards.

“ _Tony_ ,” He practically whines. 

“Fuck yes, we are doing that—after the fingers thing. I’m going to have to figure out how to keep you from breaking my nose.”

Pulling his finger out again, Tony ignores Bucky’s grumblings, “—Tony, if I have to—” and slides his thumb in. Its girth will open him that little bit wider, ease the transition from one finger to two. Slipping his thumb into Bucky brings the whole thing home again, the impossible stretch, how much Bucky fucking loves it, the sucking heat. Bucky rolls his forehead against the sheets, his long hair a mess as it slides around him. His ass flutters desperately around Tony’s thumb, one second pressing down like it will reject him, the next a hungry clutching thing.

Every time it pulls at him, Tony feels a sympathetic throb in his own cock. He tries to focus on anything other than the low thrumming tug of want. It’s so very hard with Bucky open and wet and wanting right in front of him. The _sounds_ of him doing their best to make Tony come undone, Bucky’s heavy, wet breathing, the squelch of Tony’s thumb working into him, and, when Tony drags over his prostate, that achy needy groan.

Working his second finger in goes just slow as the first. Only when his two fingertips slide simultaneously and without effort, does Tony allow them to slip in. He hooks them, lightly, just inside, waiting until Bucky is the one pushing back, looking for more, greedy for it. There’s no time for Tony’s cock now, for the way he’s hot and tingling all along his length. He wraps his free hand around the base and clamps down, willing himself back from the edge.

Another bit of give and Tony can slide both fingers past the ring of muscle and in to the second knuckle. Bucky makes an impatient sound and Tony’s cock throbs again. He can’t stop the subtle shifting of his hips, looking for relief, following the tempo of Bucky’s ass clutching around his fingers. The world narrows down to the sounds of his fingers working themselves slowly, inexorably in and out of Bucky’s hole and the noises Bucky makes from deep in his chest.

Tony starts, or maybe restarts, making soft calming sounds. It probably won’t help anyone, but if there’s a chance it will keep Tony in check or let Bucky sink deeper in his languid sprawl, it’s worth the mindless effort. Slipping his free hand around to rest low on Bucky’s belly. Tony gets caught up by the sight of Bucky’s cock hanging heavy and swollen between his legs. When Tony presses over his prostate, Bucky’s cock bobs and Tony watches it leak into the sheets.

“Soon I’ll be right here,” he says, smoothing his hand along Bucky’s lower abdomen. Bucky makes a despairing sound.

Gasping and strained, he manages, “Fuck, ah, fuck, I want…” before Tony drags his fingers over his prostate again. 

“I know what you want.” Tony isn’t sure how he manages to keep his voice in a soothing register. “Just a bit more, just like always, you take it so well.”

Bucky breathes through it, his spine arching high in what Tony assumes is frustration before bowing back into that desperate begging curve. Tony isn’t sure if it helps, but that’s when both fingers slide home.

Pulling his fingers back over Bucky’s prostate, Tony waits, then nudges both forward over it again. Bucky trembles. Tony pulls his fingers back and he can practically taste Bucky’s anticipation, instead he spreads them wide to avoid the bump. The drag isn’t the same, the desperate rub of it, the tease. 

Shifting his hips around as if he can force Tony’s fingers where he wants them, Bucky makes an unhappy sound,

“You’re so wet, every inch of you—tight and—” Tony has to take a minute to breathe. “—clinging.”

With a rotating motion, fingers still spread wide, Tony rolls first one, then the other, stiff across Bucky’s prostate.

With two fingers and the ability to spread them, working in the third finger goes easier. Bucky breaks out into a fresh wave of perspiration, Tony watches as the feeling spreads over his body, first a fresh, slightly damp sheen, then goosebumps cascading up from the base of his spine to spiral out across his back.

Tony wants to be inside him. Bucky, _Bucky_ , wants that. 

“So good, just like you said, you waited for me to work you open.” Tony flexes all three of his fingers, there isn’t a lot of room to move but with a bit of a rolling pull he’s able to pulse his fingers over Bucky’s prostate again. The noise he makes is desperate, obscene. 

“I can slip into you now,” Tony presses his hand back to Bucky’s lower abdomen, keeping his tone as cool and unaffected as he can. “Are you ready? It’ll be slow, we don’t have to—”

“No. Do it. Let’s see if I can come off just your fingers, don’t—” Bucky sounds so breathless but Tony still wants to… he rolls his fingers again, stiff over Bucky’s prostate, drag, drag, drag. “—Ah! Again. Make me—”

“Yeah, okay. Yeah. Fuck, I can’t believe I get to watch—Bucky, you’re so good, this is so fucking hot.” 

Tony works his fingers steadily, Bucky trembles his way up onto his elbows. The only time Tony’s fingers ever really leave Bucky’s prostate is when Bucky shoves or pulls himself like he has to chase Tony’s fingers. Every time, he lets out a broken little moan, his body so desperate he’s defeating himself. Occasionally, Bucky will twist to look at Tony, hair sticking to his face, eyes a little glassy. This time when he looks, he’s shivering. Tony runs his free hand down Bucky’s flank and he lists into it.

“I—can’t, ah, Tony, I can’t,” Bucky works out around his harsh breathing. As if in slow motion, his whole body locks up solid. Tony watches the tension seize in his muscles before he stops moving all together. 

“Shh, I’ve got you.” 

Carefully—he doesn’t want to touch Bucky’s cock before he’s ready—Tony shifts his free hand away from Bucky’s abdomen and stops working his fingers. 

The tightness in Tony’s chest must mean he’s holding his breath. The tight heaving breathing Bucky’s doing doesn’t seem much better. Still, Tony waits, drawing it out as long as he thinks he can. He keeps moving, trying to freeze the sight of Bucky like this in his mind. The sheen of sweat across Bucky’s back, his hair, damp and clinging to him—the way his head is tilting back, jaw straining open as Tony fingers press back into him. There’s enough sweat that when Tony provides his hand for Bucky to rut against, it’s an easy glide.

Bucky makes a punched out sound and jerks against Tony’s palm, spilling hot over his hand, ass clamping mercilessly down on Tony’s fingers. Tony keeps them working against Bucky’s prostate, milking his orgasm for all it’s worth. With helpless, shuddery heaves, Bucky presses himself between Tony’s hand, cupped around his cock, and the fingers in his ass. 

Eventually coming down, he slumps, making a garbled sound into the mattress. Twitching minutely, face smushed into the bed, he looks impossibly uncomfortable.

“That good, huh?” Tony can’t help but ask. In the wake of Bucky’s pleasure he’s a tingly, hot mess himself, but he still sounds smug.

Bucky doesn’t answer him until, “Why’s everyone I know an asshole?” 

It sounds like he’s chewing a mouthful of duvet to complain without having to move. Tony wants to laugh. Instead, he shifts Bucky into a more comfortable looking sprawl. There’s no way he can stop touching him now. Not with the way he hums satisfaction and moves like bones are for other people.

Tony prepares himself, with an odd mix of visceral pride and mournful regret, for the chance that this orgasm was too much for Bucky and Tony will have to take care of himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't feel bad for Tony! Chapter 2 picks up immediately where this let off >:]  
> Stay tuned for riding and mirror kink! 
> 
> \o/ Thank youuuuu for reading <3  
> I can't wait to hear what you have to say! :D  
> I had a few beta readers on this one! **ANT_Chan** who I can ONLY LOVE AND NEVER REPAY D:, **Swisstea** who put up with A LOT and is precious and The Enabler, and **DMGingerSnaps**! Diving into the deep end with me and no safety flotation devices in sight.


End file.
